Mansons In The Attic
by girl-inspired
Summary: When Tweedle-Tay threatens to leave the band, the Manson twins find themselves locked in the family attic. Mayhem ensues. Sequel to Tweedle-Tay & His Evil Twin and part 2 in the Tweedle-Tay Saga. A Hanson fanfic parody.
1. Neuton's Story

Chapter 1 - Neuton's Story  
October 11, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
It wasn't fair. Tweedle-Tay was my best friend. He knew everything about me, he even knew about the time that I kissed a girl in "101 Dalmatians" and she ran home crying to her mother. Now Michaela probably knew about it too, seeing as Tay was spending all his time with her. It was so stupid. Dad had told me all about Michaela, how she was the devil and how she would kill our family....... Tweedle-Tay still wanted to be her friend. Even now that Michaela wasn't speaking to him he was still sucking up to her. I asked him why he would want to be friends with the devil and all he said was, "How can she be the devil when she's exactly like me? I am not the devil. Neither is Michaela." Tweedle-Tay was so narcissistic. See?? One month ago I wouldn't have uttered a bad word about Tweedle-Tay but since Michaela had come we hadn't been nearly as close. Grubbery was just as bad. I tried to make up for the loss of Tweedle-Tay by hanging out with Grubbery but he was just as intrigued by Michaela as Tay was.  
But today it would all end. Michaela would leave and the Mansons would live happily ever after. At least, that's what I thought would happen. However, this morning, when she came down to breakfast I could tell that Michaela had no intention of leaving. I could see it in her eyes and in that bulge in her pants. Something told me that it was a gun. And when she asked Tweedle-Tay to go down into the basement with her I knew that she was going to use that gun to kill him and take his place in the Manson family.  
I had to stop her. I let the twins go down into the basement and left them there for around ten minutes. Then I moved in for the prey. When I entered the basement I saw the twins holding hands in some sick, incestuous way. "Well, well, well," I said shaking my head as I walked down the stairs. "What have we here? Tweedle-Tay, Michaela and - a gun!" I picked up the gun. "Well, it's a good thing I arrived before my brother was dead isn't it?" I paused. "Oh, look! Matching outfits. You are a clever girl Michaela. How will I know which one of you to shoot?"  
The twins looked at each other in fear and moved so that they were standing about three metres apart. Finally one of them said, "Well, I guess if you can't tell which one's which you'll have to let us both go."  
"I could," I agreed. "But the devil had been in this house two weeks too long. I'm not leaving this basement until Michaela is dead. Tweedle- Tay, all you have to do is notify me of who you are in some way."  
I stared as the twins. Which one was Michaela? I knew that Tweedle- Tay was maybe an inch taller than Michaela but they were standing too far apart for me to be able to tell who was taller. And Michaela had taped her breasts down. I was so ashamed. I couldn't even tell the difference between my brother and this impostor. I didn't want to shoot my brother but unless he admitted who he was soon I'd have to shoot both twins. Finally I said, "If I can't tell the difference between you soon I'll have to shoot you both."  
Maybe that would convince Tweedle-Tay to own up. The twins just stood perfectly still. Finally one of the twins looked longingly at the other and walked slowly towards me. When the twin was standing directly in front of me they kissed me softy on the lips. Only one person would kiss me like that........ "Tweedle-Tay!" I cried out, happily. "It's you!" I pointed my gun at Michaela. I pulled the trigger and - nothing happened. I must have kept the safety on. Michaela started to move away. I shot at her again but nothing happened. The stupid gun hadn't been loaded.  
"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" Tweedle-Tay was dancing and jumping up and down excitedly. "I didn't load the gun!"  
It was then that I realised that Tweedle-Tay, the person that had kissed me, was not Tweedle-Tay. It was Michaela.  
The real Tweedle-Tay was also saying, "Oh my god." He was shaking his head and shivering. Michaela ran over to him, doing a joyous little dance. "Tay!" she cried. "I didn't load the gun. I forgot. You're alive!!!! I'm alive!!!! It's okay! Everything is going to turn out great!" She jumped on him to hug him and he fell over. Michaela quickly got off Tweedle-Tay, who was not responding to her happy bear hug. "Tweedle-Tay," she said, as they got up. "Are you okay?"  
Tweedle-Tay shook his head as he walked towards me, bitter and twisted. "You nearly shot me," he said. "What kind of crazed fuckwit are you, to shoot your brother!?!?"  
"I uh, thought you were Michaela...." I protested weakly.  
"Then what kind of crazed fuckwit are you to shoot your sister!!!!! And you thought she was me because she kissed you -"  
"Tay," Michaela butted in. "I want you to know the only reason that I kissed Neuton was that I knew it was something you'd never do."  
"Oh shut up Michaela!" Tweedle-Tay screamed. She stepped back, hurt. He returned his attention to me. "What sort of twisted person are you?? Did you really think that I had incestuous feelings for you? Did you really think that I'd want to have a homosexual relationship with my own brother??????" He sighed. "You're going to be in deep shit when Mom and Dad find out about this." Tay grabbed Michaela's hand. "Come on Kay!"  
Michaela glared at me as she and Tweedle-Tay walked up the stairs. I quickly followed them into the kitchen where Mom and Dad were doing the washing up. "Dad," Tweedle-Tay said. "You wouldn't believe what just happened."  
Our parents turned around. "What sweetie?" Mom asked.  
"I think you'd better sit down for this," Michaela said. I could see the smug look on her face. She had won Tweedle-Tay's love and affection and I had lost.  
We all sat down at the dinner table. "Well?" our father asked.  
"Don't believe a word he says!" I screamed. "He's been seduced by the devil!"  
Michaela rolled her eyes. Tweedle-Tay continued, "Michaela and I were in the basement, looking to see if Michaela had left anything there, as she has to leave today. While we were there, Neuton came down and threatened to shoot Michaela, but he got it wrong and tried to shoot me instead. Luckily the gun wasn't loaded but -"  
"But how did the gun get there in the first place?" I interrupted. "I'll tell you how. Michaela brought it down there because she was going to shoot Tweedle-Tay. If I hadn't gotten there in time she would have shot him and taken his place in our house."  
All eyes were on Michaela. She sighed and dropped her head in her hands. When she finally looked up again she said, "Oh....... how do I explain this? I never intended to shoot Tweedle-Tay, that's why I didn't load the gun. I was just threatening him so that he would make you let me stay at your house for longer."  
"Oh," our father said sarcastically. "You were only threatening him. Well, that makes everything okay. Michaela, you are just as much at fault as Neuton. If not more. I do believe it was your gun, was it not?"  
"Well yes," Michaela said.  
"Dad!" yelled Tweedle-Tay. "you are totally missing the point. It was Neuton who intended to kill me, not Michaela. And Neuton has a homosexual crush on me, which just goes to show how sick he is. Michaela doesn't have an incestuous crush on me....."  
"As far as you know...." I said slyly.  
Michaela laughed. "Neuton sweetie," she said in a seductive voice. "You know what I think? I think you have a crush on me and you are so afraid of it that you tried to kill me. Darling, are you afraid that you have been seduced by the devil?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Tay stared at her in shock. "What!? I was only joking." she said defensively. "Sorry," she added.  
"Anyway," Tweedle-Tay went on, "Michaela threatening to kill me got me thinking. I'm not going to let you send Michaela away. If you do, I won't go to London to make the new CD. I'll quit the band." 


	2. Skipper's Story

Chapter 2 - Skipper's Story  
October 11, 1997 - Tulsa Oklahoma  
  
"I'll quit the band," Tweedle-Tay said, looking deeply into my eyes.  
  
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tweedle-Tay quitting the band. The very idea of it was ridiculous. Tweedle-Tay loved the band. He loved the music, the interviews, the fans...... he wouldn't give all of that up for a girl, even if that girl was his identical twin sister. "You're going to quit the band?" I asked, to make sure I was hearing correctly.  
"Yes," he said. "If you don't let Michaela stay with us, I'll quit the band. You might think Michaela being around would ruin the band's image but I can assure you, the affect of the lead singer going missing would be much worse."  
I smiled. "Tweedle-Tay, Michaela is not going to be staying here. I won't have her in our house."  
Tweedle-Tay looked me squarely in the eye. "Then I guess I'll just have to quit the band."  
I nodded. "I guess you will. It's your loss. Neuton can be our lead singer and resident heartthrob."  
Neuton smiled. "Tay, are you sure you want to give up your coveted position. Are you sure you want the girls to scream, 'Neut! Neut!' rather than 'Tay! Tay!'"  
Michaela laughed. "As if!" she said. We all looked at her. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm shutting up."  
"Of course I want the girls to scream for me, but I also want Michaela to stay. If Michaela leaves, I quit the band."  
"Well then," I said. "I guess it's settled. Tweedle-Tay is no longer a member of Manson."  
I could see that Tweedle-Tay was already beginning to crack. He was looking at his mother with pleading eyes, but all Fergie said was, "Sorry Tweedle-Tay, sorry Michaela, but your father knows best. I guess you both lose out."  
I snickered. "I couldn't have put it better myself. You see Tweedle- Tay, you are not the first to fall under the spell of the beautiful, witty, charming and clever twin sister. Like the others you will soon realise that you are wrong. By then it will be too late. But who am I to tell you what to do? The only thing I say to the two of you is - get out of my house!!! You have to be out of the house by 5pm tonight. Pack your things and leave."  
Tweedle-Tay looked shocked. "What?"  
"You heard me. You don't want to be involved in the family business and you are falling under the devil's spell. You are no longer a Manson. Get out of my sight!!!"  
Michaela stood up and said, "Daddy, you are pure evil." She walked out the room.  
Tweedle-Tay began to follow her and said, "I will not betray my twin sister."  
"Neuton!" I said sternly.  
"Yes?"  
"Would you leave too?" Fergie asked.  
"Okay."  
At last Fergie and I were alone. "You're not really going to send them away are you?" she asked.  
"Of course not," I said. "I want to see their succumb to lust, as all twins before them have. I want to revel in their downfall. But I don't want them to be part of our family."  
"So what do you propose we do?" Fergie asked.  
"We'll lock them in the attic for as long as possible. By the time they get out they'll be physically and psychologically destroyed. They will have been punished for being what they are......"  
"Right. I'll tell them that you don't want them in the house and I'll say that I can't stand the thought of them on the streets so they'll have to stay in the attic until you want them back."  
"Fergie," I said. "You are truly brilliant." 


	3. Michaela's Story

Chapter 3 - Michaela's Story  
October 11, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
"I can't believe they're going to chuck us out of the house," Tweedle- Tay was saying.  
Tweedle-Tay and I were in the room that he was sharing with Neuton and Grubbery. I was lying on his bed and he was pacing up and down and across the room. "Relax, Tay," I said, grabbing his brush from his dresser. I began to brush my hair. "They're only testing you. As soon as they see that you're not going to just leave me on the streets they'll come around and we'll all live happily ever after."  
"Do you really think so? Cause Michaela, I hate to tell you this but this is not a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after. This is real life."  
"Exactly," I said. "If this were a fairy tale our parents would lock us up under the stairs or something and we'd become all psychopathic and kill them!"  
"That doesn't sound like a fairy tale to me, it sounds like Virginia Andrews or Melrose Place....."  
"Same thing," I said, giggling.  
"No. If this were a fairy tale, you'd be the beautiful princess and our parents would be the wicked step-mother and I would be the king, who the wicked stepmother was trying to corrupt." Tweedle-Tay sat down on the ground.  
"You think? Oh Tay, that's so sweet.... I've always wanted to be a princess. Far-off places, daring sword fights, a prince in disguise....... But thanks to our father I'm the impossible princess. No, you're more of a prince than I am a princess. You're a pop prince."  
"Yeah," Tay said. "Cause I'm just so hot and all the girls go for me."  
I pulled the hair out of the brush. "Yuck Tay! This is disgusting! Don't you ever clean out your brush?"  
"What do you mean?"  
I sat up on the bed. "You're supposed to pull the hair out of the brush every time you brush your hair. And you should soak the brush once a fortnight," I smiled. "But don't you worry, because now I can sell this hair to some girls on the street..... Where are Neuton's and Grubbery's brushes?"  
There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Tweedle-Tay called. It was our mother. "Hi Mom!" he said.  
"Kids, your father is really serious about throwing the two of you out of the house," she said, looking worried.  
"And there's nothing you can do about it?" I asked doubtfully.  
"No. He's made up his mind. And when Skipper Manson makes up his mind........ There's nothing I can do. Well actually there is one thing..... but it might be a little difficult," our mother continued.  
"Well, what is it? We don't want to live on the streets," Tweedle- Tay asked.  
"Well, you're father may not want the two of you in the house at the moment but I'm sure when he discovers how vital you are to the band Tweedle- Tay, he'll want you both back. The only problem is that by the time he realises this you'll both be two far away for us to get you back. So I was thinking that in the mean time, only for a few days or something, you can stay in the attic."  
I listened to my mother carefully. Something about her idea was eerily familiar. An attic..... blonde children locked up in it....... oh well. "So, Tay and I are going to be living in the attic?"  
My mother smiled widely. "Yes. You should pack up all of your things as though you are leaving the house, say goodbye to your brothers and sisters, everything exactly the same except that instead of going to the streets you'll be going to the attic. I'll bring you dinner every day and I'll carry your school books up for you."  
"Thanks Mom," Tweedle-Tay said.  
"That's very thorough of you..... to even let us bring our school books up. I thought we were only spending a few days in the attic," I commented.  
"Oh, you are. But we wouldn't want you to get bored or anything. I want you to have plenty to do," my mother smiled again, a little too enthusiastically. "So you may as well start packing the two of you will be going upstairs in a couple of hours."  
"Great." Tweedle-Tay was already pulling bags down from on top of his wardrobe.  
"Bye darlings," my mother said, as she softly closed the door.  
*******************  
"What have you packed?" I asked my brother, lugging my bags into his bedroom.  
"Every single thing I own," Tweedle-Tay said, pointing to the bags that surrounded his feet. "And you?"  
"Um, Tay, we're only going to be there for a couple of days.... probably. Um, I've got all the clothes I bought here, my CDs, makeup, my Walkman.... you know, stuff."  
"Makeup? What do you need makeup for? It's only going to be you and me up there."  
I sighed. "It's the principle of the thing. I have to look my best. I can't just go around in grubby clothes and no makeup."  
"What about me?" Grubbery asked.  
"Hi Grub! I said grubby, not Grubbery!" I said to my little brother, trying to look cheerful.  
"So," he said. "You two are leaving?"  
"Yeah," Tweedle-Tay said. "Unfortunately."  
Grubbery shook his head. "I can't believe this. What about the band? What are we going to do without you?"  
I smiled. "I think you'll get by without me." Grubbery looked shocked. "I was just kidding. I know you were referring to Tweedle-Tay."  
"So, why are they making you leave?" Grubbery asked.  
"Ask Neuton," Tweedle-Tay said, looking more than a little pissed off.  
"Actually, it would probably be better if you didn't," I laughed bitterly.  
My mother popped her head around the door. "Kids? It's time for you to leave."  
Grubbery hugged Tweedle-Tay and I and poked his tongue out at our mother. "Bye Tay, bye Kay. I love you. Life won't be the same without you both." He burst into tears and ran out of the room. I felt terrible and I could see the pain on Tweedle-Tay's face. No wonder. Tweedle-Tay and Grubbery hadn't spent more than a day apart in the past twelve years.  
"After that little outburst perhaps it isn't the best idea to let you say good bye to the others," my mother said.  
"Please Mom," Tweedle-Tay begged. "I have to say goodbye to Liz, and Kessie and Mackie and even Neuton, even if he was the one who made us leave."  
I looked at our mother with wide eyes. "We have to help them understand."  
"Actually, your brothers and sisters understanding is the last thing we want. If they understand they might be upset. Now come on, it's either the attic or the streets." She looked at our bags. "I think you'd have a hard time carrying the bags onto the streets."  
Our mother walked us to a door which looked life a closet in the middle of the hallway. She opened it with a key and walked us up the old wooden staircase into the large room hidden in the roof of our house. It was surprisingly well furnished. There were two single beds on either side of the room, a dresser, even a en suite off to the side. "Wow," I said. "You sure fixed this up nicely for us."  
She was slightly shocked. "Um, yes, well, you know, I want you to be comfortable." She dropped a pile of textbooks on the dresser. "Well, let's bring your bags upstairs."  
When we'd finally brought all of Tweedle-Tay's numerous bags upstairs our mother left, telling us to "make ourselves comfortable." As I began to unpack my belongings I felt a strange wave of uncertainty inside me. Something told me that Tweedle-Tay and I would not be getting out of the attic anytime soon. I looked at Tweedle-Tay, so optimistic, so sure that our parents loved us but then I looked at the old beds, sitting there for decades, waiting for us....... Something just wasn't right. 


	4. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 4 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
October 18, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
"Michaela?" I asked.  
"What!" she said irritably.  
"Do you want to play Monopoly?"  
"Tweedle-Tay!" Michaela put her book down, exasperated. "I'm trying to read. I thought you had something important to tell me."  
"I do," I said, tapping on the floor. "I'm bored."  
Michaela and I had been in the attic for a week. I was hungry and incredibly bored. We were quickly running out of things to do. You see, we weren't allowed to make any noise in fear that Dad might hear us and get angry. I couldn't understand why Mom hadn't convinced him to let us return to the house yet. I was certain that the band would be doing badly without me....... I was the star of the band. I mean, I don't want to sound up myself but it's true, I was the lead singer..... I was the talent. The band just couldn't survive without me. Anyway, because we weren't allowed to do make noise we were very limited in what we could do. We'd listened to our CD's on our diskmans countless times, we'd played board games, I'd drawn in my sketch book (not that there were many things to draw inside the attic), I'd tried to write some songs for the band....... now there was nothing with any fun value left to do. I couldn't exactly rollerblade around the attic. There was no television. So Michaela was doing her school work.  
"Tweedle-Tay!" she said again. "Stop tapping!"  
"I will," I said. "IF you play Monopoly with me."  
"We've played Monopoly every day for the past week," Michaela complained. "I'm sick of Monopoly."  
"That's because I always win," I said teasingly.  
"That's because you always cheat," she corrected.  
"Prove it," I challenged.  
Michaela sighed. "You are so lame. Do you really think you can trick me into playing with you like that?"  
"But I'm bored," I whined.  
"Do you think I'm having fun? Do you think I enjoy reading this crap about river systems?"  
I shook my head. "No, that's why you should play Monopoly with me."  
"Tay, I would rather play with you, but unless I do the work we'll both be extremely mentally retarded by the time we get out of this attic," Michaela returned to her book.  
"We'll be out of here in a couple of days. We can do our schoolwork then."  
"Yeah Tay, whatever," Michaela said, shaking her head.  
We heard the familiar sound of footsteps coming towards the attic door. The door creaked open and our mother walked in, carrying two plates. "Hi Mom," I said.  
"Hi sweetie," she said kissing my forehead. "Hi Michaela," she added. It was easy for her to tell the difference between us because even though we were the only ones here, Michaela persisted in wearing short skirts, and doing her hair and makeup each day.  
Michaela put her book down. "Hello," she said nonchalantly.  
"I've brought your dinner for you," Mom said. "Sorry, but it's a little cold, we had company over tonight and dinner lasted a little longer than I expected."  
"Who did you have over?" I asked.  
"Oh, some nice girl, I think her name is Natalie Portman. Yes, Neuton invited her over." Mom smiled.  
I heard Michaela stifle a laugh. I'd been drooling over a picture of Natalie Portman in Michaela's "Sixteen" magazine all week.  
"So," Michaela said. "When will we be allowed out of the attic?"  
Mom looked strangely shocked. "Oh yes, I'm sure you'll be allowed out soon."  
"When are we going to England, you know, to make the CD?" I asked.  
"Oh, Neut and Grub aren't going to England, they're staying in Tulsa and make the CD. They're about half way through recording now actually."  
My face fell. "Right."  
"Well," Mom said cheerfully, "If that's all I'll be going."  
As Mom once again shut the door to that attic, Michaela stuck her finger up. "Poor Tay," she said.  
"I can't believe they're making the album without me," I said.  
Michaela laughed. "I can't believe Natalie Portman would go for someone like Neuton." I looked at her. "No seriously, I can understand how you feel. I mean, if Leonardo DiCaprio started dating Elizabeth, I'd be devastated."  
"Yeah," I said, "Well we'll be out of the attic soon. This will all be over soon."  
"Yes Tweedle-Tay, you tell yourself that." 


	5. Michaela's Story

Chapter 5 - Michaela's Story  
November 2, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
The sky was clear and the sun was shining. I was frolicking through the emerald green meadows, sniffing flowers and picking fruit. My long blonde hair was spread out behind me like some beautiful sheath. And on the other side of the meadow was - Leonardo DiCaprio. He was running towards me. I started to run faster but then - blood started spurting up out of the ground. I tried to run to the safety of Leonardo's arms but I couldn't, the blood was pouring at me from every direction. "Michaela! Michaela!" Leonardo was calling me. "I'm coming darling!" I called back. "Michaela! Michaela!" I was shaking....  
"Michaela! Michaela!" Tweedle-Tay called.  
I opened my eyes. "Tweedle-Tay?" I asked. "What are you doing here?"  
"Who were you expecting?" he asked. "We're the only ones up here."  
"Never mind," I said. The dream had ended but the feeling of blood had not. "Shit!" I screamed, jumping out of bed and running into the en suite. I slammed the door shut behind me and sat down on the toilet. 'Shit!" I screamed again. I had my period. My underwear, with its pretty little flowers and bows, was ruined. I started to tear toilet paper off the roll, trying to make a pad.  
Tweedle-Tay opened the door. "Michaela?" he asked. "What's wrong?"  
  
I quickly slammed my legs together. "Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out now!"  
Tweedle-Tay shut the door and left. I fixed myself up and walked back out into the attic.  
"What happened Michaela?" Tay asked. "Why are you so postal?"  
"Nothing happened," I replied.  
"Obviously something did happen or else you wouldn't have screamed like that. Speaking of which, you really should try to be a little quieter. What if Dad hears us? He'll know we're in the attic."  
"Sorry. Look, I have my period, okay, and I don't have any protection. I didn't think we'd be up here for that long so I didn't bring any," I explained, speaking so quickly that my words were almost unintelligible.  
"Oh my god! What are we going to do? That attic is going to be flooded. We're both going to die!" Tweedle-Tay was in a panic.  
I looked at him blankly. "What on earth are you talking about Tweedle-Tay?"  
"Your blood is going to fill this whole room up and we'll drown in it."  
"For goodness sake, I'm not surfing a tidal wave. I won't even loose enough blood to soak my bed sheets. I just hope our mother gets up here soon so she can give us some protection," I sighed.  
"Okay," Tay looked relieved.  
"So, what are we going to do today?" I asked him.  
"Don't know, perhaps we could play 'Trouble'?"  
"Okay," I said, trying my hardest to look enthusiastic, as Tweedle- Tay set up yet another board game. 


	6. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 6 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
November 19, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
Michaela opened the attic door and we ran down the stairs from the attic. Our mother had finally let us out and we were going to make the most of it. Our brothers Neuton and Grubbery were touring the United States and Europe for the next two months so the whole family (excluding Michaela and myself) had gone on vacation. Mom had unlocked the door around an hour ago when the rest of the family had left and instructed us to wait some time before we left. She had organised for the local grocer to drop off food to the house once every three days. Our house had two front doors and the grocer had been given the key to the outer door and I had been given the key to the inner door.  
I ran down the stairs to the kitchen, following Michaela closely at her heels. Our mother had put a box filled with food on the kitchen bench. I began to unpack the box enthusiastically, excited by the idea of food that wasn't cold vegetables and luke warm meat, food that I hadn't seen for over a month.  
"Ooooh, TimTams!" Michaela said excitedly, tearing open the packet of biscuits and shoving one into her mouth. "Mmmmmm," she said, falling back into a chair in ecstasy.  
Seeing Michaela's joy, I stopped unpacking the food and took a biscuit myself. God, I understood how Michaela felt. The rich, sweet, creamy, chocolatey goodness filled my mouth. There was something special about chocolate when you hadn't had any in ages. It tasted so much sweeter, so much creamier when you really wanted it. The first TimTam always tasted so much better than the thirteenth one. With this in mind, I put the remainder of the packet in the fridge. Michaela reached for another biscuit, but there was nothing there. Her eyes fluttered open. "Tweedle-Tay!" she said impatiently. "Where'd the biscuits go?"  
"I put them in the fridge," I replied. "We'll like them so much better that way."  
"TimTam is better than a man," Michaela said, nodding copiously. "What else have we got?"  
The basket was laden with goodies. Fruit, vegetables, breads, cereals, steaks....... but no fish. Mom had forgotten my favourite treat. I checked the fridge. "No brownies either!" I moaned.  
Michaela looked at me, puzzled. I explained the legacy of our mother's delicious brownies. She seemed unfazed by this and began packing the food into the fridge. When we'd finished we sat back down. After all that time spent in the attic, we couldn't think of anything to do. Suddenly Michaela looked up and into my eyes. Her eyes were sparkling as though they had been taken captive by some internal fire. "Tweedle-Tay!" she said eagerly. "Let's go to the bathroom!" I couldn't for the life of me figure out why but as soon as we arrived I understood. There were scales in the bathroom. Michaela took off her shoes and stepped on carefully. "Shit!" she exclaimed.  
"What's wrong?" I asked.  
"I weigh 105 lbs," she said bitterly, hopping off the scales. She motioned for me to step on. The scales read 107 lbs. "That's only because you've grown," Michaela said. "You must be around two inches taller than me now." Michaela dragged me over to the full length mirror. "Tweedle- Tay," you're looking less and less like me every day." She shook her head sadly. "If Neuton were to attempt to murder me today, he would certainly know who I was. Your nose is way too big for you to pass for me."  
"Bitch!" I snapped, chasing her down the stairs.  
That day was probably the most exciting day of all the time we spent out of the attic. We took photos of ourselves on Dad's Polaroid camera so that we could later leave them in the attic, we ate and ate and ate in hope of putting on weight and we held a disco in the den that night. Unfortunately the fun couldn't go on for the entire two months.....  
  
***************************  
  
Within a couple of days Michaela and I were spending most of our time watching television. Because of the lack of things to do we watched anything and everything, "Ricki Lake", "Judge Judy", old repeats of "Beverly Hills 90210" and "Days of Our Lives". Anyway it was lucky we were watching so much television because if it weren't for that we would never have tuned into Entertainment Tonight on the night that our brothers were holding their first concert. Both Michaela and I had wondered excessively about what our parents had said about my disappearance, and about how the fans were handling it but apart from Manson songs dropping from the number 1 song to the number 35 song on the nightly top forty countdown, there was nothing we could base our inferences on until that night that we were watching Entertainment Tonight.  
Michaela was curled up on the couch reading the novel "Flowers in the Attic" which she seemed to think was very similar to our lives and I was picking out tunes on one of Neuton's spare guitars when we heard the headline that made us drop our respective novelties in shock. "Riots at Manson concert, a special report" the news reader said, as images of my brothers being pounded with rotten fruit and girls joining hands and singing rather than screaming covered the screen. According to the news report, I had run away from home with my girlfriend around a month ago and now the rest of Manson were trying to continue the band without me. However today's concert hadn't gone as planned because the fans were so distraught about my absence. Images of thousands of girls linking arms and singing filled the screen. "Where did he go, I wanna know, where did Tweedle-Tay go? ....... sometimes I wonder, maybe we're to blame....."  
They liked me! They really liked me! They liked me so much that they wouldn't listen to the band unless I was there banging on the keyboards and singing...... Michaela smiled at me, "See, I told you. You are by far the most popular band member. The band can't survive without you," she said.  
"It's only a matter of time until they let us out now," I said, trying my best to look cheerful. Inside though, I missed the band. I wanted to be up there on the stage, performing. I was certain that if I was there as well as my brothers, the girls would be screaming screams of joy rather than of anger.  
We returned our attentions to the screen. The host was interviewing one of the girls in the audience of the concert. "Tweedle-Tay should come back to the band instead of hanging out with that retarded little whore girlfriend of his! There are other girls that would be happy to have him without splitting up the band...... like me!"  
Michaela looked angry. "I am not a whore! You stupid little teenybopper slut!" she yelled at the screen.  
"And you're not my girlfriend," I reminded her.  
Our father's face came onto the television screen. The interviewer asked him if he would accept my girlfriend and ask me to come back to the band but he said that he would not accept my girlfriend and I had made my choice over the band and my girlfriend and that the band would eventually get by without me because, after all, this was only the first show.  
I was so mad! How dare my parents make up lies like this! I picked up the phone and began to dial. "Tweedle-Tay! What on earth are you doing???" Michaela asked urgently.  
"I'm dialing Entertainment Tonight to rectify these lies."  
Michaela jumped off the couch and ran over to the phone, slamming the receiver down. "Don't be stupid Tweedle-Tay!" she said. "If you do that, we'll never escape form the attic. No one will believe you anyway, the police will probably come to our house and we'll get in trouble."  
I folded my arms and pouted. "It's not fair," I said. "I deserve to be up there, with the screaming girls."  
Michaela raised her eyebrows. "Tell me Tweedle-Tay, what about this is fair?"  
  
***********************  
  
Soon it was Christmas day, probably the worst Christmas day either of us ever experienced. It wasn't like we hated each other or anything and it wasn't as though we didn't have anything to eat (and don't get me wrong, we were grateful to be out of the attic), it was just really irritating to be locked up in the house. Neither of us could buy each other any Christmas presents because we couldn't get to the shops and we had tried to make each other presents, but, I don't know, it just wasn't the same. I know, I know, Christmas is supposed to be a time for giving, but we didn't have anything to give. Although we were both reasonably creative, our inspiration was gone.  
For this particular Christmas day I had drawn Michaela a picture of Grubbery and Neuton having tomatoes thrown at them. The only thing was, the tomatoes weren't tomatoes, they were knives. I really can't blame Michaela, she tried to look impressed but it wasn't very convincing. I think she needed cheering up after not seeing any sunshine for two months, not depressing pictures of death. Anyway, her attempt at a cheerful present was just as pathetic.  
Michaela had cut a heart out of red cardboard and stuck pictures of her on one side of it and pictures of me on the other side. In the centre of the heart there was a Polaroid of us together looking totally depressed. She had also cut out little blue cardboard tears and stuck them on the heart.  
"Oh," I said. "So you don't like spending time with me?"  
Michaela looked startled. "What on earth do you mean Tweedle-Tay?"  
"In all the pictures where we are apart we look happy, in the picture where we are together we look sad," I said, waving around the card.  
Michaela scowled. "For goodness sake Tweedle-Tay, if I had-"  
"And that's another thing," I interrupted. "You always call me Tweedle-Tay! Why don't you ever call me Tay? My friends all call me Tay. Aren't you my friend?"  
"Oh fuck you TAY! I am your friend, though god knows why I am. I hang out with you everyday -" Michaela complained.  
"But only because you have to," I cut in.  
"Would you stop interrupting me????? I even wore red today, just so I could look cheerful, and because I knew it was your favourite colour. I don't know why I bother," she said, exasperated.  
"Well," I said. "I don't know why I bother. I would be a famous pop star if it weren't for you. I wish I'd chosen the band over you, because, Michaela Morgan, you are not a true Manson and you are just not worth it." I folded my arms triumphantly.  
Michaela looked as though she'd been slapped in the face. Her lip began to quiver and her eyes brimmed with tears. She stuck her finger up. "I'm going back up to the attic," she said. "By choice." Michaela turned and began to walk swiftly to the stairs. "Merry Christmas Tweedle-Tay Manson."  
I immediately began to feel guilty. "I'm sorry Kayla! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it," I said running after her. "Thank you god," I said sarcastically, as I ran up the stairs. "Thank you for all you've given us." 


	7. Michaela's Story

Chapter 7 - Michaela's Story  
January 21, 1998 - Where else? Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
Neuton, Grubbery, our parents, Elizabeth, Kestrel, MacArthy and now little Mozzie returned home two weeks earlier than was expected. Manson's tour had been totally unsuccessful due to angry fans. Everywhere the Mansons went rotten fruit flew towards their faces as though there was some sort of magnetism. The new Manson single, "Strange" debuted on the charts at number 87 and swiftly left the charts the following week. The fall of the Mansons was just a quick as their rise.  
So now it was back to normaldom for Neuton and Grubbery, and (indirectly) Tweedle-Tay. Tay had been pushed back to normality three months before the others but the realisation that he would never again be the proverbial Adonis of eternity for all girls under thirteen hit him harder than I expected it to. Tweedle-Tay had spent hours on end lying in his bed, not moving, because he was so depressed about the band. In the rare moments that he spoke he explained to me why he was so upset.  
"Michaela," he said.  
I ran over to his bed immediately. "Mmmm?"  
"It's over," Tweedle-Tay said sadly. "The band is gone for good. It's over."  
"And it's all my fault," I muttered. "If I hadn't convinced you to threaten to leave the band, none of this would ever have happened."  
"Michaela -" Tweedle-Tay began weakly.  
"No, you don't have to make excuses for me. I was selfish, and now we're both going to be locked up in here forever. Your rejoining the band was our only hope of escaping....." I trailed off, looking at the roof. Tweedle-Tay moaned. "Oh, sorry Tay!" I said quickly. "I shouldn't have said that. It was tactless of me."  
Tweedle-Tay strained a smile. "It was tactless, but it's true. Mercury has dumped us." He sat up on the bed. "You know, it's like, the record company, they pretend they care about you, when you've got a number one single, but as soon as you start to sink, they let you. The time when you need their support most is the time they take their support away." He collapsed onto the bed.  
I looked at my brother sadly. I couldn't think of anything to say. There was nothing that I could say. His dreams, everything that he had worked towards, everything he had achieved, had been taken away from him, just like that, and it was all my fault.  
Tweedle-Tay began to speak again. "It's not so bad for Neuton and Grubbery, they have each other, they have Mom and Dad, they even have Mama now........ But me, I'm stuck in an attic, I have no one."  
"That's not true!" I interjected quickly. "You have me......"  
"Yes Michaela, I have you."  
"Tweedle-Tay, don't think everyone hates you, because they don't. In a way, this loss of fans shows just how much they care about you. They know that our parents have done something to you and they're boycotting Manson until you come back," I said, my fingers crossed behind my back.  
"I thought you hated Manson fans....." Tweedle-Tay said.  
"Well I do, but -"  
"Then why are you pretending that they're these wonderful, intelligent, noble people when I know you don't think they are?" Tweedle- Tay asked, raising his eyebrows.  
"Well, listen to this." I picked up a magazine from the pile that our 'generous' mother had given us for Christmas. It was a British rock magazine, 'Q'. "This article was written before your disappearance and I quote the following passages; says Tweedle-Tay, a look of bemusement on his cherubic face; It's all there in Tweedle-Tay's voice. He's got real soul in him; Tweedle-Tay could really sing; Tweedle-Tay has most incredible voice. I seriously believe he could become the greatest R&B singer of his generation. He can be the next Aretha!"  
"Not any more," Tweedle-Tay said bitterly. "Remember? I don't have a recording contract anymore."  
I ignored him and continued. "Says Tweedle-Tay, possibly the most articulate of the three; and.... yeah..... well that's all."  
Tweedle-Tay sighed. "And your point is?"  
I whacked him over the head with the magazine. "My point is you may not have a recording contract now, but think about what these people have said about you. You have hope. You're not even fifteen years old yet, for goodness sake. The most stupid thing we've done is not escape from this house while we were downstairs, but who were we to know any better? We thought you'd be rejoining the band. Anyway the next time they let us downstairs we'll escape from this old dump and move to my grandmother's house in LA. I inherited her entire fortune." I stopped, remembering how I was supposed to meet up with the executor of her estate around three months ago. "Anyway," I continued. "Once we move to LA you can resume your music career and become a famous hunk again, right? Right?"  
Tweedle-Tay was not answering me. I looked over at his face and found that he was sound asleep. Tweedle-Tay had fallen asleep during me inspiring speech. I sighed and began to get changed into my pajamas. 


	8. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 8 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
February 5, 1998 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
"You know, sometimes I wanna rip out your throat, Daddy," Michaela was singing along with her Jewel CD, which was being played at almost full volume. We'd given up on being as quiet as possible in fear that our father might hear us and kick us out of the house. I suspected that he knew all too well where we were and was enjoying every minute of it. Besides, both Michaela and I were now aware that there was no way I would rejoin the band and everything would go back to normal again. Not now. It was too late.  
Rather than concentrate on naive dreams like that, Michaela and I were preparing for the day that we would leave the attic. We didn't know when that day would be, it might be next week, next month, next year..... but it would come soon. There was no point in being idol when we were in the attic. We had to have hobbies, be productive, and, most importantly, enjoy ourselves. And, as for the noise, we figured the more we made, the more annoyed our parents would become and the sooner we could leave.  
According to Michaela, as soon as we left the attic we would have to return to (in her case) and start (in mine) school. Michaela was used to being in advanced classes and I didn't want to go to LA and find myself in the seventh grade so we devoted about four hours a day to our school work. Michaela assumed that we got more done in those four hours than most people did in the six hours they spent at school. "Tay, you have no idea how much time is wasted at school," she told me. "Lunch, recess, talking before, during and after classes, everyone arrives late, teachers go off the topic, reading magazines, listening to music........ Four hours a day is plenty. We can spend all that wasted time having fun!"  
And fun we had. We spent hours reading, trying to learn about the outside world that we hadn't seen in months, we were in the process of painting the attic, like the Sistine Chapel. The attic was becoming gorgeous. We were trying to turn it into a beautiful garden, a bit like our backyard, so that we felt like we were outside, even though we weren't. Occasionally we drew a boy and girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes in the garden, engaged in various activities. Michaela said this was so any future generations of Mansons that might come up into the attic would know a little more about the legend of the blonde, fraternal twins. Tweedle-Tay and Michaela. Us.  
Michaela was also doing something else for the future generations of Mansons, and, for that matter, anyone else who may buy this house. Michaela was writing a book, about everything that had happened to us. Occasionally, okay often, she would call upon me to write a chapter, based on what I was feeling on the date she gave me to write about. It was really cool, like a combined journal, sort of. Michaela was even writing chapters about what she thought our parents would have been thinking about at the time, like on the day we were born. She said she'd write a series of books, and probably, after we'd left the attic, someone would publish the books, curious about what had happened to the missing pop star, Tweedle- Tay Manson. The first book in the series was called "Tweedle-Tay and His Evil Twin" named after the day we first met, when Neuton said that Michaela was my evil twin.  
I was spending a great deal of my free time preparing for my return to pop stardom once we'd left the attic. I practiced every day and tried desperately hard to write happy pop songs, like the ones on my album "Centre of Somewhere", but what was there to be happy about? Most of my songs centred around attics and death. Michaela was apparently writing songs too, although she wouldn't show them to me. But she said most of her songs were based around attics, evil fathers and revenge. We were such cheerful, happy teenagers......  
Just as we were leaving remnants of our presence in the attic for future generations of Mansons, past generations of Mansons had left remnants of their lives in the attic for us. There were masses of piles of paper in the North-Western corner of the attic. Michaela seemed to find great joy in pouring over them for hours on end. She said the papers might explain why our parents were so psychotic as to lock us in an attic. Personally, I thought she was being a little unfair. I mean sure, I had never before heard of this happening to anyone and I guess that did make them a little peculiar, but in the first fourteen years of my life they were nothing but nice to me. They were supportive, they were kind and they only wanted for me what I wanted for myself. It was only when Michaela came along that they started acting strangely. So maybe my sister was right, maybe we did have some sort of family secret. Michaela had barely made a dent in the piles of papers but she had already found out the Mansons had been living in our house since the turn of the century. It was so weird, thinking about all the dead ancestors we had lying in our backyard. Kind of creepy actually.  
So Michaela and I tried to use our time in the attic constructively but there was going to come a time when we would run out of things to do and be idle. And idle hands make idle means. 


	9. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 9 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
March 14, 1998 - The Attic, Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
"Michaela!!! Hurry up!" I yelled, banging on the bathroom door. "How long do you have to spend in there?" Michaela had been in the bathroom since before I had gotten up, and I had gotten up twenty minutes ago. "How long have you been in there?"  
"Oh, not too long!" she called back cheerfully. "Be patient Tweedle- Tay! I'll be out any second now."  
I walked over to my bed and sat there waiting. Girls. How long did Michaela have to spend in the bathroom anyway? I only took five minutes to have a shower and get dressed. The bathroom door swung open and Michaela came out, spinning and jumping like a ballet dancer. When she reached the bed she grabbed me in a huge hug and kissed me quickly on the cheek. "Happy birthday Tweedle-Tay!" She quickly jumped off the bed and started to run around the room screaming, "It's our birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"  
When Michaela had finally worn herself out she sat down on her bed giggling. "You'll have to excuse me, Tweedle-Tay," she said, her smile lighting up her entire face. "I have a tendency to get over excited on these sorts of occasions!" She started to giggle again. "Sorry about spending so long in the bathroom," she added, her eyes wide and apologetic.  
"Oh no, that's okay," I said looking carefully at Michaela.  
She frowned. "You can use it now."  
"Oh, yes," I said, running quickly into the ensuite. Now I understood why my sister had spent so long in the bathroom. She was wearing a gorgeous purple feathered dress with matching ballet slippers and cream coloured stockings. She had put on only a little makeup and curled her hair slightly. I know it mustn't seem like much, but my twin sister had transformed herself from my pretty twin sister into a great beauty. She looked stunning. Sure, she was a little on the thin side, as we were only being fed once a day by our parents (a big meal, but still only once a day), but she looked gorgeous, like a model or something.  
I quickly brushed my teeth, had a shower and put on some clothes. When I came out of the bathroom Michaela was playing "Just a Girl" by No Doubt and jumping around the room. "I'm sorry, Tweedle-Tay," she said unconvincingly, "You must think me so hyperactive. I'm acting like Grubbery or something. You know," she said, grabbing my hand, forcing me to jump around too, "It's really funny because a few weeks ago when we were watching Melrose Place, Lexi was being really 'lively' because she was on anti-depressants, and I'm acting like that anyway!"  
"Are you high or something?" I asked, uncertainly.  
"Oh, the only thing I'm high on is life!" she said, laughing.  
"But we're locked in an attic, Michaela."  
"But," she said meaningfully, "It's our birthday. Maybe our parents will bring us presents and good food today."  
As though Michaela was making a prediction, at that moment our mother burst through the attic door. "What on earth do the two of you think you're doing?!" she said, turning down the stereo.  
I sat down on the bed, pulling Michaela, who was still giggling, down with me. "Relax Mom, we're just playing some songs and having a little birthday party."  
Our mother frowned. "Well stop it," she said. "Is she on drugs?" she added, looking at Michaela.  
"No, we couldn't get any drugs up here even if we wanted to," I said, groaning.  
Michaela finally stopped laughing. "I'm just happy because it's our birthday."  
Mom smiled. "Oh yes. Well I'm happy too, but you really must keep the noise down. What if your father hears?"  
Michaela and I just shrugged. Our mother smiled again. "Is that why you got dressed up?" she asked Michaela. My sister nodded. "Well," my mother said, "You look very pretty. The dress is a little big though. I have presents for the two of you downstairs, so I'll just go and get them now, okay?" Our mother quickly left the attic and locked the door.  
Michaela looked slightly pissed off. "Of course the dress is a little big," she said. "I bought it in LA and due to a lack of food I've lost ten pounds since then."  
"She did say you looked pretty," I soothed Michaela. "Although that is a bit of an understatement."  
Michaela smiled. Our mother came up through the door carrying a heavy box. "Well?" she said. "Open it."  
I tore open the box. It was a television. "Wow!" Michaela said excitedly. "Thanks!"  
"This must have cost you a fortune," I added.  
"Well," our mother said. "You can consider it your share in the Manson fortune. I thought the two of you might get a bit bored up here in the attic alone so I bought you this so you'd still know what was going on in the outside world. I also got you a few magazines," she said, handing Michaela Sixteen, Rolling Stone, and British Smash Hits.  
"Thanks," Michaela said slowly.  
"And," our mother said, her face lighting up, "Your hair is growing very long Tweedle-Tay, so I thought I'd give you both a little hair cut. Just three inches off you both."  
Feeling pleased with our gifts, Michaela and I both let our mother cut our hair. She told us about the family, and our new baby sister Mozzie. Apparently everything was going well and Neut and Grub were getting used to not being heartthrobs. She never asked how we were. When she'd finished cutting our hair I said, "So Mom, it's great that you bought us all this stuff, but when will we be allowed out of the attic?"  
"I can hardly be a threat to the band now that there is no band," Michaela added.  
"I'm sorry sweetie," our mother said, apologetically. "But I can't see the two of you getting out of the attic any time soon. Your father is still very angry and would hate the idea of the two of you in his house."  
"Then let us out of the house!" I said desperately.  
"We'll go and live in one of my Grandma's houses. We'll be fine. I have an inheritance. We'll live off that," Michaela said.  
"And I have the money I made from Manson," I added.  
"Actually," our mother stuttered. "You don't. It's in a joint bank account. And you're kind of considered dead, so your personal bank account has been closed."  
"Fuck that!" I yelled.  
"That's Tweedle-Tay's money," Michaela said. "Tweedle-Tay was what made Manson what it was. Their current lack of popularity proves that."  
Our mother looked as though she was about to cry. "I come up here, presenting you with gifts and love, and this is the thanks I get?" she said shaking. "I may as well not come up here at all."  
Both Michaela and I remained silent.  
"And I can't let you leave the house, not yet, you're my babies, and I want you close to me," she added, crying.  
Michaela groaned. "But if you're not going to let us leave the house because you want us close to you and you're not going to let us leave the attic because our father doesn't want us in the house, what are you going to do?"  
Our mother sighed. "I don't know."  
"Are you going to wait until he dies or something?" I said sarcastically.  
"Perhaps," our mother replied.  
"This is so stupid!" Michaela screamed. "Last year, on my fourteenth birthday, I was upset because I couldn't have a party. This year, on my fifteenth birthday, I'm upset because I'm locked up in an attic, and I'll stay locked up in an attic for god knows how long!"  
Our mother stood up, shaking. "As I said. I come up here trying to be nice. I buy you presents, talk to you, feed you, cut your hair!!!! And what thanks do I get? The two of you pick on me! Well I don't have to put up with this....." Our mother left the room, shaking and sobbing.  
Perhaps if we had looked closer though, Michaela and I would have seen a smile playing on our mother's lips. 


	10. Michaela's Story

Chapter 10 - Michaela's Story  
June 6, 1998 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
As the months dragged on Tweedle-Tay and I has less and less to do. School work kept us busy most of the time, but we had soon finished all of our ninth grade text books and were more than ready to go on to tenth grade books. I'd stopped advancing my Math and was concentrating on other areas. There was no point in going ahead to senior mathematics when you weren't even a sophomore.  
Soon it was summer. According to the weather woman on Tulsa News it was hot outside (31 degrees Celsius), so you can imagine how hot it was in the attic. To cope with the heat, I had to wear my swimmers with a sarong and Tweedle-Tay had to wear his boardshorts. Due to the heat, our mother was spending less time in the attic when she came up to give us our dinners. She usually just dumped our dinners at the door and left. One would think that she'd be sympathetic to her children and let them out of the attic, but she did not. To cope with the extreme heat, Tweedle-Tay and I drank water constantly and thus went to the bathroom constantly as well.  
On this particular night, I was having a shower and changing into my nightgown before bed. I brushed my hair one hundred times and tied it back in plait. I put my dressing gown on and walked out of the bathroom. Lying on my bed, his face pressed against my 'Sixteen' magazine was my brother, Tweedle-Tay. "Yuck!" I screeched. "What are you doing!"  
Tweedle-Tay's lips left the magazine. He glanced up at me guiltily, and quickly looked away. "Iwaspracticing," he muttered.  
"Excuse me?" I said, my hands on my hips. "I didn't hear you. Would you remind repeating yourself...... more slowly this time."  
"I was practicing," he said softly.  
"Ewww," I scoffed. "Get off my bed." Tweedle-Tay got up. I looked at the magazine. Poor Cameron Diaz had wet marks all over her face. Tweedle-Tay sat down on his own bed. I raised my eyebrows and held up the magazine. "Practicing? You are so sad Tweedle-Tay..." I said, shaking my head and hopping into bed. I looked at my brother, who sat there silently, looking at his feet. I sighed and turned off my bed side lamp. My half of the attic was in darkness, but my brother's was not. "Tweedle-Tay," I said impatiently. "It's ten-thirty, would you mind turning off your lamp?"  
Tweedle-Tay looked up at me. "Michaela? May I ask you something?" he said.  
"Shoot."  
"Michaela, have you ever kissed a guy?" he mumbled.  
"No, but 'I kissed a girl'," I sang. I laughed. "Just kidding. Seriously, yeah, lots of times. I had about four boyfriends before I moved here," I said.  
"Right," Tweedle-Tay said, getting into his bed. There was silence. "Michaela, have you ever had sex?" he continued.  
"What???" I said, sitting up. "Are you serious? I am NOT that easy. I was only fourteen when I moved here, remember?"  
"Sorry," he said. "It was just a question."  
"Mmmmm....." I said. I lay back down, trying to go back to sleep, although it was very hard, considering the light shining on the other side of the room.  
A few minutes later Tweedle-Tay spoke again. "What's it like?" he asked.  
I sighed. "What's what like?"  
"You know..... kissing," he mumbled.  
I sat up again. "Tay, do you mean to say that for six months you had thousands, possibly millions of teenybopper girls following you around, desperate for you to take advantage of them, and you never once did?"  
"Well, yeah," he said.  
"How noble of you," I replied.  
"Well, I didn't think it was right. I always figured there'd be plenty of time later," he said.  
"Well obviously there wasn't," I countered.  
"That's why I was practicing with the magazine," Tweedle-Tay said.  
"Whatever...." I paused. "Would you mind not practicing on my magazines again?" I added.  
"Sure," he said slowly. "I'll find something else to practice on."  
"Good," I said firmly. "Good night Tay."  
"Good night Kay."  
"And," I added. "Would you PLEASE turn off your lamp???"  
"Sure," Tweedle-Tay said, hastily turning off the lamp. "Good night, Kay."  
I sighed. "Good night Tay." 


	11. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 11 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
July 13, 1998 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
"That Claudia is sooooo irritating," Michaela said, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe the girl who plays her is actually older than us. I swear, you'd think she was twelve or something the way she carries on."  
Michaela and I were watching cable TV, old repeats of 'Party of Five'. It was the episode in which Claudia gets the soccer playing boyfriend who she thinks is really cool and she wants to make out with him and stuff, but he doesn't want to because he likes Julia. "She probably was twelve or thirteen when she filmed this episode," I suggested. "Remember, it is a repeat."  
"Her boyfriend is so feral. As if you'd go for him. She must be really desperate. He's not even mildly interesting, I mean, all he ever talks about is soccer," Michaela whined.  
"I used to play soccer," I pointed out.  
"Your point is?" Michaela said. She smiled. "I'm sorry, I just don't go for that sort of guy."  
"Really?" I said, trying to look nonchalant. "What sort of guy do you go for, Michaela?"  
"I don't know...... not him. Anyway Tweedle-Tay, I'm trying to watch television," she said, returning her interest to the screen. I didn't even bother pointing out that she was the one that started the conversation.  
"What about Bailey?" I asked a few minutes later.  
"What about him?" she said.  
"Is he the sort of guy you go for?" I asked.  
"Bailey?" she repeated. "God, no. He's an idiot. He's not even faithful to Sarah."  
"Right," I said. "Who do you think I'm like?"  
"On 'Party of Five'?" Michaela asked.  
"Yeah."  
"I don't know..... why are you asking these sorts of questions anyway?" Michaela asked. Her eyes widened. "Oh...... don't worry Tweedle- Tay, just think of all those singing girls throwing tomatoes at our brothers," Michaela said, patting my arm sympathetically.  
What did Michaela mean? Did she think I was pathetic? Did she find me irresistible? "Don't you worry about your attractiveness either Kay," I said, testing her reaction.  
Michaela raised her eyebrows and bit her lip. She gave a little smile. "Thanks," she said, rather unenthusiastically. She scooted along the ground so she was sitting a few inches further away from me for the rest of the show. When it was over she flicked through the channels. "Forty channels and absolutely nothing to watch," she commented wryly.  
"Are there any movies on?" I asked.  
"Lets see," she said, grabbing the TV guide. "'Father of the Bride II' enough said, 'Mimic' crap, 'Spiceworld' probably the best so far and 'The Heartbreak Kid'. That's practically a porno."  
"Well," I said smiling. "'The Heartbreak Kid' it is."  
"Yeah," she giggled, setting the channel to 'Spiceworld'. I looked at her blankly. "My god, Tweedle-Tay you aren't serious are you?" I didn't say anything and Michaela changed the channel. She moved yet another foot away from me.  
I didn't get Michaela. Was she in love with me or not? She suggested that I practice my kissing techniques on something other than her magazines, yet she insulted soccer players. She agreed to watching sexy movies with me, yet sat two feet away from me during them. I looked at her. Her body language wasn't exactly good. Her arms were folded and her legs were tightly crossed. She looked so pretty. The movie was getting pretty steamy. Michaela looked at me lustfully and got up. "I don't want to watch this Tweedle-Tay," she said. "I'm going to go and read the old papers in the corner."  
"Why?" I asked, disbelievingly.  
"I happen to find genealogy very interesting," she said, biting her lip.  
"Well I happen to find gynecology very interesting, but that doesn't mean I go around studying myself all the time, does it?" I replied.  
Michaela was slightly put off. "I don't care," she said, walking to the other side of the attic. And so I didn't speak to Michaela throughout the rest of the movie.  
When the movie finished, Michaela and I each, in turn, went into the bathroom to get changed for bed. When Michaela came out she kissed me softly on the cheek. "Sorry Tweedle-Tay," she said. "I didn't mean to fight with you, I just hate that movie. It's so pointless....... Did you like it?"  
"Yeah..... well...... it was okay........," I replied.  
Michaela gave a little smile. "You liked it," she said. "Typical guy." We each got into our respective beds on opposite sides of the room. "Goodnight Tay," Michaela said softly.  
"Goodnight Kay," I said. I loved Michaela so much. Sometimes, okay often, I worried that I loved her more than a brother is supposed to love his sister. But how Michaela felt was such a mystery to me. She allowed me to watch sex movies........ but then again she wasn't exactly in the position to tell that I shouldn't be watching them. She kissed me......... it was on the cheek...... but it was so seductive in its own way. She said I was attractive, in her own little way, but she was a nice girl, and was probably just being nice. And had she looked at me wistfully as she climbed into her bed? It was all such a mystery to me. After considering it carefully for about ten minutes I decided that Michaela probably felt the same way about me as I felt about her. And, to be honest, I didn't care if she didn't feel the same. My love was strong enough for ten people.  
I lifted the covers off my bed and quietly got off. I tiptoed softly across the attic towards Michaela's bed. I lifted her blanket carefully and hopped in. The first thing I noticed was a piece of material lying beside Michaela. Her night gown. Obviously she had psychically predicted this and removed it just for me. I felt Michaela's body tense. "Tweedle- Tay?" she said, her voice shaking. "What are you doing in here?"  
"I love you Michaela," I said, kissing her hair.  
Michaela turned to face me. "Tweedle-Tay, would you please get out?" she said.  
I ignored her and kissed her. She bit my tongue. I don't know what happened. I loved Michaela so much, I should have gotten out, but I was so angry after that. It was a battle of strength and because, we were both weak and emaciated, only I was a good ten pounds heavier, I had the obvious advantage. No matter how much Michaela kicked and bit and scratched, I was inevitably destined to win. 


	12. Michaela's Story

Chapter 12 - Michaela's Story  
July 14, 1998 - Gee I wonder? Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
The light from the attic window blinded my eyes. "Good morning sunshine, you're my only ray," I sang to myself. The curtains must have blown open during the night. I rolled over, to get out of bed and shut them, and but I only rolled into Tweedle-Tay. I squealed. What was he doing in my bed? All of a sudden it came back to me. I looked around for a sharp object, but there were none within my reach. No matter, I kicked him instead..... where it hurt. Tweedle-Tay gasped and his eyes fluttered open. I grabbed my dressing gown, jumped over him, and ran into the bathroom. I got dressed in baggy jeans and a size 12 T-shirt. It looked ridiculous as there was no way I was bigger than a size 2 but there was no way I was going to let my brother find me attractive in the least. I tied my hair back in a bun and I didn't even bother putting on make-up. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I still looked kind of pretty. I considered wearing non-waterproof mascara and getting big black streaks down my cheeks but I didn't want to go to that much trouble to make my brother feel bad.  
I walked out of the bathroom and went through the CD rack. I had to find something particularly poignant to play. I picked up 'Live Through This' by Hole and set it to play the title track 'Asking For It' fifteen times in a row. I sat down and began to read a new novel, 'The Age Of Innocence'. I had barely been doing this for twenty minutes when Tweedle- Tay came and sat next to me. "Good morning Michaela," he said.  
"Good morning Michaela????" I repeated. "Good morning???? Don't you think that's underestimating it a little? I was just raped by my brother last night, Tweedle-Tay. I wouldn't call that a good morning! I'd call that a great morning! Why, Tweedle-Tay, this is the best morning of my life!!!!!!"  
"Really?" Tweedle-Tay said, his eyes lighting up. "Mine too."  
I looked at my twin brother. Sometimes he could be so thick. He was actually unaware that he had done something wrong. I screamed and began to cry. "What's wrong?" Tweedle-Tay asked.  
"What's wrong?????" I repeated. "I'll tell you what's wrong! I'm fifteen years old and I just lost my virginity to my twin brother! He didn't use protection! I could get pregnant and god knows how deformed the baby would be! I specifically asked him to get out!!!!!!!!! But nothing's wrong." I was crying so hard that my words were barely intelligible.  
"I'm sorry," Tweedle-Tay said.  
"No!!!" I said. "That's the thing. You're not sorry, you don't even know that you've done something wrong."  
"At the time it didn't feel as though I was doing something wrong. I love you so much that it felt right," Tweedle-Tay explained.  
"That's the thing, Tweedle-Tay, you don't love me. Well, you do, but only as a sister. You think you love me more than that but you don't. You're just sexually frustrated," I said, sobbing. "Have you ever tried....... you know..."  
Tweedle-Tay looked aghast. "Thou shalt not spill the seed."  
"Right, but it's okay to rape your sister? I don't think so Tweedle- Tay."  
"But you wanted it too....." my brother protested weakly. "You weren't wearing your night gown."  
"Tweedle-Tay!!! It's thirty three degrees outside, and even hotter in the attic. I was trying to protect myself from the heat, not seduce you. I specifically asked you to get out of my bed....... I kicked, bit, scratched, if I had wanted to have sex with you I wouldn't have done any of those things," I sobbed.  
"You didn't kick me as hard last night as you did this morning," Tweedle-Tay added. "Why not?"  
"I don't know!" I sobbed. "I don't know! I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!" I screamed.  
"You always dress so prettily," he went on.  
"Stop trying to justify it. You're not even sorry." I replied.  
"I am sorry!" he protested. "I just want us to be friends again, like we were before........"  
"I'd like that to happen too Tweedle-Tay but I don't see how that can ever happen again. No matter what you say, we both know you had sex with me against my will. You raped me Tweedle-Tay! I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again........." I said, sniffing.  
"Well, what can I do?" he asked desperately.  
"Well, for a start, this must never happen again," I began.  
"Done!" my brother said eagerly.  
"And, it would help if you stayed away from me for a while......" I added.  
"Okay," Tweedle-Tay said sadly, changing the CD from Hole to Alanis Morissette. "I really am sorry, Michaela........"  
I didn't respond with either yes or no, I only said, "This must never happen again." 


	13. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 13 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
September 18, 1998 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
'Well you couldn't be that man I adored. You don't seem to know, seem to care, what your heart is for. Well I don't know him anymore. There's nothing where he used to lie, my conversation has run dry, that's what going on, nothing's right I'm torn!'  
Michaela was still trying to torture me in her oh-so-subtle way. For two entire months she had been playing songs with "hidden" meanings in them. She had made a tape with all these songs which were supposed to symbolise how she no longer trusted me. Her favourite one to play was still "Ask For It" by Hole as it was the most literal. She was still dressing badly too. She thought those baggy clothes and lack of make-up would make her look completely unattractive. But the idea of that was ridiculous. The clothes were about four sizes too big and she looked like a wannabe homie which was stupid as she was the epitome of preppyness. Michaela was like one of those girls in the deodorant ads. You know, the blonde haired, blue eyed, writer for the school newspaper, cheerleader, always nice to everyone...... kind of like a cross between the Wakefield twins and Cher from Clueless, and here she was pretending to be a homegirl. Her new clothes actually showed more skin than her old clothes because the tops kept on falling off her shoulders and the pants kept on falling off her hips. And did she really think that I couldn't see her long eye- lashes, high cheekbones and perfectly shaped mouth just because she wasn't wearing make-up? She was even more pathetic than I was.  
The summer had been long and virtually silent. We were actually grateful when September came and we were able to do school work. It was a break from the hours on end that we spent staring at the television sitting eight feet apart and not making eye contact. Michaela had the teen magazines our mother bought us once a month but she wouldn't let me look at them. When I complained to our mother, Michaela had informed her that I couldn't "control myself" and was not to be trusted near anything that even vaguely resembled the female of the species. Our mother just smiled. If she had noticed any changes in Michaela since that fateful summer night, she didn't show it. To her, Michaela was still the size six girl with the designer clothes, not a bitter, ninety pound waif. She was obviously choosing to be blind, because the changes that had occurred in Michaela in the past year were obvious. The changes that had occurred in me in the past year were obvious. I had always been skinny but I had grown three inches and not gained any weight. I had an incestuous crush on my sister. I was writing songs about death and attics. We weren't the same picture- perfect people.  
Anyway, I was trying to watch 'Friends' on this night, but did Michaela care? No. She was still punishing me. She didn't want to be my friend and watch television with me like she used to, she wanted to go through old family notes. She still hadn't found anything interesting but she continued to spend hours each week reading the old newspapers and diaries. And not only that, but she seemed to think it necessary that she play her 'punishment tape' loudly so that I couldn't hear the television. It was as though she wanted me to hate her. No, I knew she wanted me to hate her. Why couldn't things be the way they used to be?  
'I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed lying naked on the floor. Illusion never changed into something real......"  
Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I stomped over to the corner where Michaela was sitting. "Would you mind turning that music down??" I asked.  
"Yes," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I like to work with music on in the background. I really relate to what she's saying."  
"Well I'm trying to watch TV!" I complained.  
"Tweedle-Tay! This is really interesting. I'm on the verge of finding out what makes our parents so psychopathic. I'm up to our grandfather Manson in the Manson family history. He's our father's father. Our father is by far the most psychopathic Manson. Who knows what family secrets we have," Michaela explained.  
"But 'Friends' is my favourite show!" I countered.  
"It's a repeat Tweedle-Tay, get over it."  
"Okay. Can I help you?" I asked, trying to be friendly.  
Michaela smiled, and then frowned, remembering what I did. "I guess so," she said, moving over for me to sit down.  
'So whenever I think what a dick, what a liar, I try to come up with some good things inside!'  
Michaela spoke again, refusing to make eyecontact. "Have you ever met your grandfather? What was he like?"  
I thought for a second and then realised something that I had failed to notice in my entire fifteen and a half years. "No," I said. "I've never met any of our grandparents," I added.  
Michaela actually looked at me, probably to see if I was lying, "How strange," she said.  
'Well you haven't killed anyone as far as we know, and you seem very nice to your sister. You've got very good taste in clothes and guitars and very young girls........'  
"Yeah, it is kind of weird," I said.  
Michaela gave a hint of smile. "Kind of weird?" She quickly composed herself. "I'm going through the old records and trying to find out who our paternal grandmother was and what sort of people our grandparents were." She handed me a stack of papers.  
'Every time that I sell myself to you I feel a little bit cheaper than I need to......'  
I began to go through the old photographs. It was so boring. There were class photos, family party photos, holiday photos...... and all of people I had never met. Sure they were all very attractive people, they were our relatives after all, but they were people I did not know. Finally I came to a picture of a young man and woman cutting a cake. It was obviously a wedding cake as it had a little bride and groom statue on the top. The man was our grandfather, Roger Manson, and the woman was the first blonde in Manson history. She looked a little bit like Michaela. I held the photo up. "Well, I found it," I said.  
"Huh?" Michaela asked.  
"Our grandparents' wedding photo," I said, holding up the picture of our grandfather and his pretty bride.  
Michaela's eyes widened as she looked at the photo. "Fucking hell!" she said, grabbing it off me. 


	14. Michaela's Story

Chapter 14 - Michaela's Story  
September 18, 1998 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
  
'Every time that I stare into the sun, angel dust and my dress just comes undone.'  
I couldn't believe that I was letting my brother sit so close to me. He was actually sitting less than a metre away from me. Who knew what he might do? Sure, I had made myself look totally unattractive, but I could feel him eyeing me constantly. Still he could help me find out about the family secret, whatever it was. I knew there must be one, otherwise my parents would behave like normal parents and put up with me, no matter how much they hated me. Tweedle-Tay said something and interrupted my thoughts. "Huh?" I said, absent mindedly.  
Tweedle-Tay was holding up a wedding photo. "Our grandparents' wedding photo," he said.  
I looked at the photo. The woman looked really familiar. "Fucking hell!" I said, grabbing the photo off Tweedle-Tay for a closer look. It was just as I suspected. The woman in the photo bore a startling resemblence to my adopted grandmother Annabelle Morgan. I flipped the photo over. 'Roger marries Annabelle Morgan', it said. "Oh my god," I said softly.  
"What is it?" Tweedle-Tay asked.  
'Be a model or just look like one......'  
"That woman," I said. "Is my adopted grandmother. Except she isn't really my adopted grandmother, she's really our paternal grandmother........" I looked at Tweedle-Tay. He obviously didn't understand the significance.  
Finally he said, "Oh my god. You were onto something when you decided to read this pile. You now know the family secret."  
I looked at him blankly. "No I don't," I said. "All I know is that there definitely is family secret. Why else would Annabelle and myself leave the family and move to LA? And why didn't Annabelle leave you guys any of her money?"  
Tweedle-Tay looked confused. "I don't know," he shrugged.  
"Exactly," I said. "That's why we have to keep looking through this stuff."  
For the next twenty minutes Tweedle-Tay and I continued to look through the old papers. I skimmed through Annabelle's diaries. Although our grandfather Roger Manson was a puritan, he seemed to be a kind man and I just couldn't bring myself to believe that our grandmother was cruel. Not when she'd been so kind to me in those fourteen and a half years I'd spent living with her. I read all about her pregnancy. It seemed to be a difficult one and Annabelle complained extensively about her exploding weight. Finally I came to the entry written on the day after my father's birth. My grandmother had given birth to not one baby, but two. A boy and a girl.......  
"Oh my lord!" Tweedle-Tay cursed. He held up a picture of our grandmother holding the two babies. "It's our parents!"  
Tweedle-Tay had seen the photographic evidence of what I had just read. Fergie and Skipper Manson were not only husband and wife, but also brother and sister. Fraternal twins, like Tweedle-Tay and myself. "Shit!" I screamed, "That's disgusting!"  
Tweedle-Tay and I did not even bother discussing the revelation, we were both too wrapped up in discovering the real reason that everything in our family was so twisted. Rather than searching separately, we sat together for around three hours going through absolutely everything, so carefully, reading every word that our grandmother and our mother had written (our mother also kept a detailed diary).  
Our grandfather had died when our parents were around three years old and Annabelle, sorry, Grandmother Morgan, was left to raise the children alone. As her parents had been business people in New York, they kept her with enough money and she never had to get a job. When our parents were twelve, our great-grandparents died, leaving my grandmother with a twenty million dollar inheritance. She decided to go on living life as usual rather than buy mansions and go on expensive holidays. Everything seemed to be going fine until our parents were sixteen and my father developed a crush on my mother. Our grandmother was aware of this but pretended to be ignorant, hoping it would just go away. She thought it was the epitome of hypocrisy as our father was a bible basher and what he felt was against everything the bible preached. It was at this time that she dropped Christianity. Our parents married the weekend after they turned eighteen in small ceremony is Las Vegas. When they were twenty-six Neuton was born and finally, when they were twenty-eight, Tweedle-Tay and I were born.  
Tweedle-Tay and I braced ourselves.  
Although our parents were very much in love, they were aware that what they were doing was wrong and so felt that it was a sign of God when they gave birth to suspiciously similar looking fraternal twins. Our father was terrified that history would repeat itself and, because it was always the female who seduced the male, wanted to adopt me out of the family. Our grandmother was shocked at my father's evil nature and said that no such thing would happen, and that she would take me away to the West Coast. When we arrived there, our grandmother began to spend her fortune, which had now tripled due to inflation, and bought shares and apartment blocks as well as a mansion in Beverly Hills. She decided that I was the only Manson that had not been corrupted by my father and left her entire fortune to me.  
I sighed and lay back down into the papers. What was wrong with me? Was there no one I could trust? I couldn't trust my parents, they were the ones who locked me up here in the first place. I couldn't trust Tweedle- Tay, he just wanted to use me as a release for his sexual tension. I couldn't trust my friends in LA, they had dumped me when Manson became popular. And now I couldn't trust my dead Grandmother who actually had the nerve to lie to me in her will, saying we weren't related when in fact we were. She had totally lied to me. After looking at photos of my mother when she was young I realised that I did in fact bare a strong resemblance to her. Annabelle Morgan was just as bad as the rest of them. I started to cry. I couldn't wait until I got out of the attic and went back to LA to live by myself with none of these evil people around. I looked at Tweedle-Tay. "Why don't you just tell our parents that you'll let me go on the streets? Then we can both get out of the attic and everyone will be happy again. You can restart the band, I can make new friends........ everyone will be happy again. I promise I won't give away the Manson secret, just let me out of here!!!!" I screamed.  
"No, I won't do that," Tweedle-Tay said.  
"Why not?" I asked, puzzled.  
"Because, I love you Michaela, and I want to be with you. You're my best friend," he explained.  
"Tweedle-Tay! We've been over this before. You don't love me. You just think -" I protested.  
"I don't love my parents anymore. How could they do this to us? Anyway, they're sinners. They disobeyed the bible," Tweedle-Tay went on.  
'Wild eye rot gut do me in. Do you think you can make me do it again?'  
Even through my tears I managed to raise my eyebrows. "Don't you think that's a little hypocritical? If they are sinners, you are a sinner in the same way. Perhaps, I'm a sinner too.......... subconsciously," I argued.  
Tweedle-Tay was devastated. "Michaela! Don't say that! You're not a sinner. Nothing that has happened in the past year has been your fault," he said urgently.  
"If I hadn't -" I began to half-heartedly take the blame, but I was interrupted by Tweedle-Tay's kiss.  
'If you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you....'  
My heart skipped a beat. What on earth was happening? I had to stop this, but I didn't know how to do it. The shock grew a few seconds later when I realised that I was actually kissing him back. The entire thing was ridiculous. We lay back into the papers continuing to kiss. It was as though my mind and my body were two separate entities. My mind was saying, 'How dare you condemn Tweedle-Tay and your parents when you are just the same Miss Michaela Louise Morgan?' But my body was saying 'You know what? This is actually kind of nice......'  
Evidently I was just as sexually frustrated as Tweedle-Tay. As my body continued to do its thing my guilt deepened. I was doing everything I had ever condemned. I had wanted to chuck a Lorena Bobbit the last time this disaster had happened. But this time it was different. This time I knew that somebody loved me, although everyone else had lied to me, although it was all my fault that this had happened, my brother, who was in the same predicament as I was, still loved me. And that was all that mattered. 


	15. TweedleTay's Story

Chapter 15 - Tweedle-Tay's Story  
March 14, 1999 - Tulsa Oklahoma  
  
I rolled over in my bed and looked across the room at Michaela. She was lying there, fast asleep in a baggy T-shirt. I smiled to myself. Finally everything had returned to normal. Once Michaela and I had found out about the family secret our mental imbalances had balanced themselves. Somewhat. Michaela and I had not even kissed since that night and Michaela had actually forgiven me for the rape. She was under the somewhat misguided belief that she must actually have been subconsciously asking for it or else the September occurrences would never have happened. And so, although I'm sure the events plagued us both, they hadn't been mentioned in around six months. Michaela and I were now normal teenagers in every way except that we were locked in an attic (and I was still quite attracted to her).  
Because Michaela was still asleep, I took the opportunity to use the bathroom, as I was sure she'd be in there for a good twenty minutes once she woke up. As the hot water in the shower poured over me I tried to remember what day it was. Oprah hadn't been on television yesterday, but it had been on the day before....... that meant it must be a Sunday....... Sunday, March 14. It was our birthday! I hadn't gotten Michaela a present, but I was sure she'd understand, it wasn't like we had any money or materials to make a present with. I got out of the shower and put on my old leather pants that I used to wear all the time, when I used to be famous. They looked really stupid, because they sat four inches up my calves. Funnily enough however, they weren't too tight, or at least they weren't any tighter than they were back when I was fourteen. I brushed my hair and teeth and walked out of the bathroom.  
Michaela was lying on her bed reading a trashy 'Sweet Valley' book. She had obviously dressed while I was in the bathroom. She was wearing a red Alliah dress that was about two sizes too big for her. She'd done her hair and make up extra quickly too. "Hey Kay!" I said. "Do you know what today is?"  
Michaela looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then said, "Sunday."  
I gestured towards the calendar. "What's the date today?"  
Michaela thought again. "The fourteenth......" Her face brightened. "No shit! Happy sweet sixteen Tweedle-Tay!" She dropped her book and ran over to give me a hug.  
"Happy sweet sixteen to you too!" I replied.  
"Wow...... I can't believe I completely forgot," Michaela said guiltily.  
"Oh don't worry," I replied. "I forgot too."  
"But sixteen is such an important birthday! I didn't even get you a present." Michaela paused. "You didn't get me a present either?"  
I shook my head.  
"Oh well, at least we're even," Michaela confirmed. Michaela's mood dampened slightly.  
"What's wrong Kay?" I asked.  
"We've haven't left the house since we were fourteen and a half...... what if we're still here on our seventeenth birthday?" Michaela said, biting her lip.  
"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll get out soon," I said unconvincingly. "Hey," I added, "I wonder if our mother will let us out for a birthday present?"  
Michaela gave a little smile. "Fat chance. I wonder if she'll even remember that it is our birthday? This will be good test to see how much our parents actually think about us these days."  
And if our parents had been graded on that test they would have received a big fat F. While Michaela and I entertained ourselves in the usual way (i.e. television) the rest of our family were probably out at church and then having a family picnic. The same sort of thing they always did before the attic, before Manson, before we were mobbed. Finally, at about 6pm, our mother came up with our dinner. She looked at me and smiled. "Tweedle-Tay! Those pants are a little short aren't they?" she said.  
"Maybe," Michaela said sarcastically, "You could buy him new pants. I don't think you've bought him any in a year and a half...."  
"Um..... I can't....... afford any," our mother said awkwardly.  
"Right," I said.  
"Anyway, here's your dinner," she said, handing us plates of cold mashed potatoes and sausages. She left the room without mentioning our birthday once.  
I looked at Michaela and smiled. "She cares about us soooo much," I said sarcastically.  
"Oh yeah. You know, I think we're secretly her favourites," Michaela said, with a mock eagerness.  
And so our uneventful sixteenth birthday passed like any other day. 


	16. Michaela's Story

Chapter 16 - Michaela's Story  
May 27, 1999 - Tulsa, Oklahoma  
Tweedle-Tay and I walked cautiously down the stairs. Our parents had apparently taken the family on vacation and our mother was letting us out of the attic so we could feed ourselves. We wouldn't be surprised however, if our father had been standing at the bottom of the stairs just waiting to shoot us. All this punishment just for existing. However, Tweedle-Tay and I checked the house thoroughly and there was no one hidden in any corners. The car was gone and a great deal of things were removed from each of the bedrooms. I looked a Tweedle-Tay. "Well," I said, "Now's our chance."  
To see his face light up when I said those words was pure heaven. It felt good to know that I could make someone happy just by saying those three little words. "So what do we do?" he asked.  
"Well," I said, "Let's see. We have to leave Tulsa and catch a plane to LA, so the first thing we should do is book two tickets for the next flight. We'll need to pack about two small bags each, only what we can carry, and catch a taxi to Oklahoma city."  
"Cool," Tweedle-Tay replied. "I'll book the plane tickets."  
"Actually," I said, "That may not be such a good idea...."  
"Why not?" he asked.  
"Well, think about it. The plane tickets will have to be booked under a name. You're missing and presumed dead, so if the tickets are booked under your name it's going to look really conspicuous. No one knows who I am but thousands of people still remember who you are. You didn't exactly fade away, if you know what I mean. You left with a bang and the debris is still around," I explained.  
Tweedle-Tay nodded, looked up the number of the Oklahoma City airport, dialed and handed the phone to me. "Hello, Oklahoma City Airport Bookings, how may I help you?" the attendant said.  
"Um," I said nervously. "I'd like to book two tickets to LA, the next flight there if possible."  
"Right. There's a flight leaving at 4pm today. Could you make it here in time for that?" the attendant asked.  
"Just a sec," I said. I turned and asked Tweedle-Tay how long it would take to drive to Oklahoma City. There was enough time. "Sure, that would be fine," I replied.  
"First class, business or coach?"  
I considered for a few moments. Sure, I had millions of dollars in the bank, but I wasn't sure if first class would be a wise choice. And I hated coach. "Uh, business," I said. I could see Tweedle-Tay silently cheering next to me.  
"And what name should I book the tickets under?" The attendant asked.  
"Michaela Morgan. Oh and do you want my credit card number?" I asked.  
"That might be helpful," the attendant said sarcastically.  
I fixed up the payment and hung up the phone. "Well, that's settled."  
"I guess we should go pack now," Tweedle-Tay said.  
I nodded and we walked back up to the attic. We both grabbed a suitcase and a small bag for the plane and began to pack. It was incredibly difficult, deciding what to take with us, especially for Tweedle- Tay, who had everything he'd ever owned in the house. It was easier for me because I'd only taken a small number of items with me to Tulsa in the first place. I suggested to Tweedle-Tay that he only take necessities and things of sentimental value. In just over half-an-hour we were packed. We lugged our bags downstairs. "You should call for the taxi," I told Tweedle- Tay. "You know this area a lot better than I do. Don't ask the taxi to come to our house, ask it to come a few blocks from here and we'll walk there with our bags. It'll look too suspicious, a guy who looks like Tweedle-Tay Manson, standing outside the Manson house, catching a taxi to Oklahoma City."  
Tweedle-Tay picked up the phone and dialed. "Um, hi, I'd like to book a taxi......... yeah.... um could it come now....... to the intersection between Myrtle Street and Rosebud Avenue...... we're going to Oklahoma City airport.... yeah thanks." He hung up the phone.  
"Thanks Tay," I said affectionately. Sometimes I felt more like his mother than his twin sister. We walked to the door and tried to open it but it was locked. "Shit!" I said, angrily. "How are we going to get out now?" I started to cry. We had been so close to get out of the attic and now this!  
Tweedle-Tay paced up and down for a few seconds before running up the stairs. He returned a minute later holding our father's bowling ball. He threw it at our loungeroom window and the glass shattered, leaving ample space for us to get out. I ran over and hugged him gratefully. "Thank you soooo much," I said.  
He shrugged and said, "No problem." Perhaps I had underestimated my brother. I stepped through the hole in the window and Tweedle-Tay followed. We walked carefully down the street, Tweedle-Tay leading the way to Myrtle Street. Once we got there we walked more confidently. When we reached the intersection I sat down and Tweedle-Tay leant against the fire hydrant. It felt so good to be outside again, to actually have fresh air against my skin. Of course, once we go to LA it wouldn't be fresh air, but it would be air all the same. A big yellow taxi pulled up.  
"Are you the kids who booked the taxi?" the driver asked.  
"Yes, that was us," I said, standing up. The driver helped us put our suitcases in the boot and I showed him that we had enough money to pay for the trip. Tweedle-Tay opened the car door and hopped into the backseat and I followed. The driver started the car and drove along Myrtle Street.  
  
"So why are you kids going to Oklahoma City Airport?" the driver asked.  
"We're going to LA," Tweedle-Tay said.  
"I see. Are you visiting anyone?" the driver continued.  
"Yes, we're going to our grandmother's house," I replied.  
"Right, so you two are brother and sister?"  
"Yeah," I said.  
The driver turned into Stoneybrook Crescent, our street. Tweedle- Tay's eyes were glued to our side of the street. The driver noticed our interest as we passed the house. "That's the old Manson house," he said. "You know those blonde boys in the band. That middle one went missing. Some say it was murder you know........ You two look around his age, were you into their music?"  
But neither Tweedle-Tay or I could answer. Tweedle-Tay looked almost wistful and felt surprisingly sad. We were leaving. "Goodbye Stoneybrook Crescent," I said softly, squeezing Tweedle-Tay's hand. We turned the corner into another street. We both turned our attention back to the driver.  
"Sorry, what did you say?" Tweedle-Tay asked.  
  
To find out what happens next, check out San Fernando Valley High - part 3 in the Tweedle-Tay Saga. 


End file.
